Are you listening
Or does my voice vanish
The moment it touches you
A match struck in wind
A signal swallowed by its own light
I speak in the clean geometry of truth
Sharp lines
No tremor
Each word a blade balanced
On the quiet between us
Your silence grows antlers
It stands in the doorway
Watching me with the patience
Of something that has already decided
Not to move
So I carve my meaning deeper
Past the soft layers
Down to the mineral core
Where language becomes bone
Are you listening
Or am I chanting into frost
Etching your name into the cold
Until even the ice begins
To forget its shape
Because the air is thinning
Because the echo is learning
To speak without you
And I am done offering warmth
To someone who mistakes it
For weather
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Author:
Anthony Hanible (
Offline) - Published: March 17th, 2026 04:10
- Category: Unclassified
- Views: 3
- Users favorite of this poem: Anthony Hanible
Offline)
Comments2
There are several good lines here but it is the last phrase that captured my mind. Mistaking warmth for the weather struck me. Well done
"Your silence grows antlers" I loved that. Beautiful poem.
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